Bottled Affection
by lithugraph
Summary: A/U: In which Gilbert ruins Roderich and Elizaveta's wedding. (And in which Roderich handles it...well.)


_'And do you, Roderich, take Elizaveta to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, to cherish, as long as you both shall live?'_

A sound was building between his ears.

 _'And do you, Roderich, take Elizaveta to blah blah-blah wife? To blah blah-blah-blah blahdiddy blah both shall live?'_

A brassy, whining buzz, like a high note played on a saxophone.

 _'And do you, Roderich...'_

Fuck.

He was a fucking idiot. The biggest fucking idiot that had ever had the misfortune of being born. Of existing. Of falling in love.

 _'And if there be no objection, I now pronounce you hus -'_

Gilbert grit his teeth. The words, uttered perhaps an hour ago, cut through his alternating states of humiliation and guilt.

He had objected.

He had dared to do the one thing you never do at a wedding. He objected.

And, god! Oh, god, the _look_ on Liz's face. In short, it was strong enough to melt metal. Her perfectly coiffed hair came undone in an instant, the curls unspiraling into the wild waves he remembered from childhood.

And now it was raining. How goddamn stereotypically melodramatic and perfect was that? It was fucking raining, just like in that damn Guns 'N Roses video. Hell, it even looked like that video, tables and chairs all arranged in the courtyard, the food set out, waiting for the guests to come from the wedding in the manor house. What was it? _November Rain_ , or some shit. The fuck it mattered anyway. Even Mother Nature was conspiring against him. Fine. It was his own damn fault anyway.

He wasn't even drunk. That was the worst part. He wasn't even drunk. He was perfectly sober. Sober, and one hundred percent cogent of his hand flying into the air, of the rest of him following as he stood. Of his mouth forming the words _'I object!'_ Of the looks he was getting as his feet carried him up so he could prove his point. Words had failed him by then. The only thing left was action...

The _fwump_ sound of an umbrella popping open startled him out of his thoughts.

Gilbert looked up to see who had been so rude as to interrupt his moping. Ah. He should have guessed...

The tailored tuxedo had been swapped for an equally tailored sports coat and pants, but there was no mistaking the poised, stiff stance. Gilbert briefly wondered why he even bothered changing.

"The fuck you want, Specs?"

"It's raining, you know."

" _Really?"_ Gilbert said in mock surprise. "I hadn't noticed." He turned away again, glaring petulantly out at the sodden, abandoned tables and chairs meant for a reception that wasn't going to happen. At least not today.

A hand extended down to him. Gilbert eyed it a moment, eyes tracing the thin fingers. It was clear from the look Roderich gave him, he was not there to trade barbs or engage in verbal sparring of any sort. But Gilbert was nothing if not stubborn, and when Roderich realized Gilbert was refusing his hand, he settled beside the blonde with a huff, their shoulders just brushing.

"I hope you're happy," Roderich snipped, maneuvering the umbrella so it shielded both of their heads. "Now _my_ pants will be as wet as yours."

"Thank you for that small sacrifice," Gilbert deadpanned.

"I must say," Roderich sniffed, pretending to examine a fingernail, "you have impeccable timing. Really, it couldn't be more...what's that word you use? _Awesome._ "

"All right! I get it, okay!?" Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, slicking back the soaked strands. "I'm sorry. I just...h-how's Liz taking it?"

"Fine, I suppose. I don't know. I left her trying to console scandalized relatives. Does that make me a horrible fiance, or...whatever we are now?"

Gilbert snorted. "Why're you askin' me? You're the one who's, like, anal about manners and shit."

Roderich pressed his lips tight, glancing down at the dampening legs of his trousers.

"Why _aren't_ you in there, anyway? With Liz?"

"Would you rather me to leave you to wallow in your pity?"

"No, I just - Jesus, Specs! How come you're so...so _calm_ about this!? I fucking ruined your wedding! How can you just - just sit there and...fuck! I fucking _kissed_ you, for Chrissakes - "

"I'm aware of that."

" - so _how_ can you just...? Aren't you the _slightest_ bit pissed at me?" Gilbert demanded.

"Would it help if I was?" Roderich asked quietly.

Gilbert's mouth fell open; his lifted brow rose further, threatening to disappear into his hairline. "...I-I don't get it... _you_ of all people...fuck."

"This is all my fault," Roderich sighed. "It's about time I stopped lying. To myself, to Elizaveta...and to you. I'm only sorry it had to come out like this...but maybe it's actually better this way."

"...Hang on. You're not saying that you...?"

"All I'm saying is that I didn't - didn't mind. When you kissed me."

Roderich looked up, a smile hinting on his lips.

"So...all those times you - insulted me. All those times you reprimanded me over some stupid ass thing. All those times you kicked me out of the house. _All_ those times...you were really...?"

Roderich nodded.

Gilbert's face split into a dubious grin. "You've got a funny way of lettin' someone know you like them."

Roderich nodded again and sniffed. "I know." A thin hand swiped furiously at each eye. "God, I know."

"Hey," Gilbert said softly, "don't feel so bad." He put his arm around Roderich, pulling the other close. "We both know, now. Right? Besides," Gilbert continued, nestling his head on Roderich's shoulder, "at least you didn't make an ass of yourself in front of a hundred people. I feel like I owe you something. Like I should at least pay for this fiasco of a reception."

Roderich laughed. "You couldn't afford it."

"True. But it's the thought that counts."

Roderich laughed again. "Well, if you feel that badly about it, you _could_ pay for the cake. It's at least a few hundred. And it looks kind of sad out there, being melted by the rain."

"Yeah," Gilbert said, his lips brushing against Roderich's jawline. "Yeah, it does."

* * *

 _ **A/N**_ _As most of you who read my fic know, music is a tremendous source of inspiration for me, and I feel I owe a huge debt to Cold War Kids and their two songs "Tuxedos" (for inspiring the plot) and "Bottled Affection" (for the title). And of course GnR gets an honorable mention, too, for that epic song and the equally epic music video. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!_


End file.
